For the Good
by Jezunya
Summary: Draco & his money are the only things standing btwn the Wizarding world & total collapse, but that doesnt mean the Ministry trusts him. They set auror Ginny Weasley to watch him, but to give her full access to him, they must arrange to have them married.


**WARNING: CONTAINS _HALF-BLOOD PRINCE_ SPOILERS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!**

Disclaimer: So not mine. But I'm sure you knew that. I mean, if _I_ owned it, we'd all just be _rolling_ in Draco plushies, now wouldn't we? ;)

A/N: The title keeps making me think "ftw!" – "for the win!" Bwah, too much Penny Arcade! ;P

Thanks to my sisters, Nahni and Jaqq, for beta-ing this for me! n..n

**"F****or the Good"  
by Jezunya**

**Chapter 1 – Signed, Sealed, Delivered**

The ground crunched softly beneath her boots, the grass and mulch of the graveyard covered by a fine layer of autumn frost. She knelt down, adjusting the package in the crook of her arm so she could brush away the moss and leaves from the tombstone with her free hand. Another year gone by. Another year of hardship, and of peace. Another year of the Wizarding world struggling to pull itself back together.

She pulled the long, thin box from under her arm and opened it reverently. Inside, wrapped in wispy white tissue paper, lay two soft, pink roses. She drew them out and laid them gently before the gravestone, knowing he would have loved them.

She had heard once that what made Kosher Jewish wine kosher was the fact that the grapes used for the wine were never tended on the Sabbath. Similarly, these were Muggle roses, simply because they were tended only by Muggles, grown using Muggle fertilizers, and sold in a Muggle grocery store in London.

Arthur Weasley would have loved them, indeed.

She stood, sniffling and wiping at a stray tear with the back of one home-knit glove. Two roses, one from her and one from her mother, who could rarely find the time to leave the house anymore, and could almost never bring herself to visit her husband's grave. It had been three years now, but the pain was apparently still too near for Molly Weasley.

She turned on her heel and began walking quickly away. Her brothers and their wives would no doubt be coming to pay their respects any time now, and she didn't feel up to facing them today. Her father's life had not been given lightly, and while she wasn't ever going to forget that, it didn't help matters that the other Weasley children seemed determined not to _let_ her forget it.

She pulled her tattered cloak tighter around herself, watching the frozen ground pass beneath her feet. It had been three years since her father's death, three years since that fateful day, and neither she nor her mother had ever fully recovered.

She still lived at home, in the Burrow, despite having recently had her twentieth birthday and being in possession of a promising career as a Ministry Auror. It sounded rather pathetic, even to her, but she mainly stayed to help support her mother. All of her brothers were married (or close to it, as in Ron's case with Hermione), and so couldn't be expected to stay home with their aging mother, but Ginny was the baby, and the only one still single, despite Molly's frequent suggestions that she date (or marry) Harry Potter.

Having walked a far enough distance from the graveyard, she was just about to apparate home when the ring on her right hand began glowing a faint red. She sighed. It was a summons from the Ministry, and from the color of the glow, it was urgent.

Glancing around one last time to make sure no one would see her, she disappeared with a small _'crack'_ and was whisked away to the Ministry of Magic.

888

There was a bit of a situation at England's Ministry of Magic. Actually, more than just 'a bit'. Frankly, they had found themselves in a huge, heaping, mess of a pickle.

Yes, the War with the most powerful Dark Wizard of all time had ended several years ago, and it had mucked up the Wizarding World's society and economy so much that they were still struggling to get back on their feet. However, the War was not the cause of their current problem. At least, not directly. The crisis this time was actually part of the solution to the problem of post-War reconstruction.

That problem could be described in two words: Draco Malfoy.

Oh, the Ministry was grateful for his help in the rebuilding efforts, especially since the government had absolutely no money even for essentials such as paying their employees, much less for expanding an economy that was limping along at best. Malfoy had inherited his family's entire estate and then some, with the deaths of his parents during the War as well as those of other Death Eaters who had left their belongings to Lucius Malfoy for safe keeping – who in turn left everything to his son and only child. He didn't have time to formally change his Will after supposedly disowning said son before he was killed in battle with the infamous Order of the Phoenix. Draco, thus, inherited it all, and the Ministry did not see fit to seize the property from him, considering the hefty and rather helpful role he played in the War. That, and he was paying the bills for them.

So they were grateful, indeed, but that didn't mean they trusted him. The Minister could be quoted on saying that the whole affair made him "rather uncomfortable." Draco Malfoy may have supposedly provided the Order of the Phoenix with critical information about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers during the War, and he may have been the only one willing and with enough money to drag the Wizarding World out of the downward spiral it had fallen into, but when it came down to it he was still a Malfoy.

And the Minister, along with almost the entire Ministry, did not much like the idea of being in debt to a man who had Death Eater blood running in his veins.

They needed to ensure Malfoy's loyalty, and they needed some way of making sure he stayed out of the Dark Arts and any other kind of trouble.

Something had to be done...

888

Draco Malfoy was having a, for once, peaceful evening. He'd finished the day's paperwork earlier in the afternoon, there'd been no owls or surprise visits from the Ministry, and he'd even been able to send the servants away early so that he could have the evening to himself.

He was just settling into the leather wing-back in front of his fireplace when a timid knock came at the door. Rolling his eyes, he sighed and called, "Come."

Unintentionally, he always seemed to use the same strong, superior tone that his father had employed when dealing with the servants. It did have its uses, though, since it seemed to be one of the only things to keep them from stabbing him in the back. Literally.

He needn't have worried, though, since the girl who entered was young, and looked up at him with frightened, doe-like eyes. One of the new servants, hired to replace those who had quit when his father died. She was a squib, if he wasn't mistaken, but what was her name..? Morgan? Moraine? Morgana?

"Yes? What is it?" he asked curtly, covering his confusion over her name.

She gave a quick curtsy, visibly shaking as she did so. "An owl arrived for you, m'lord."

He frowned, but held out his hand as she approached and handed it over. There was nothing adorning the envelope except his name and the Ministry's official seal. Frowning further, now in exasperation at how neverendingly needy the Ministry was, he turned the envelope over and pulled the letter from within.

It was a plain, crisp sheet of parchment, neatly creased into thirds to fit inside the matching envelope. He unfolded it, only briefly glancing over the by now familiar legal letterhead in the top left corner. It seemed routine enough... Except, what was this? A request to appear before the Senior Witch and Warlock of the Wizengamot? No... An _order_. He scowled, eyes flicking over the parchment once more.

Yes, it was nothing less than an order to appear for... a _hearing!_ ...with the heads of the Wizarding Council at 6:35 that very evening.

He glanced up at the clock; cursed. 6:23. If he apparated in, he would just have enough time to get to the SWs' office for the appointment. Even as he rose from his chair and lifted his wand to disappear with a sharp _'crack'_, the thought passed through his mind that he should have been snarling in outrage at being ordered about in such a way, and by a practically powerless government no less!

Unfortunately, he knew that was the price he had to pay to stay in good favor – and more importantly to stay _out_ of prison – no matter how much money he threw at them. And so with this thought weighing heavily in his mind, he kept his silence and obediently made his way to the Senior Warlock and Witch's combined office.

888

The _'crack'_ of Ginny apparating into the port in the Auroring Department was quickly swallowed up by the ever-present hum of activity from its workers and secretaries. The War had officially ended some two years ago, but, just like it said in the Muggle comic books, evil really never did sleep. With the government in such a weakened state, trouble was cropping up everywhere, in the form of anything from harmless teenage pranks to wizards and witches across the country trying to make themselves into the new Dark Lord. Never a dull day for the warriors of justice and defenders of the weak. With a sigh, Ginny waded through the scurrying lackeys and self-transporting memos to her Head of Department's office.

Remus Lupin was one of the few remaining senior members of the Order of the Phoenix who hadn't tried to flee from before the public eye after the War. McGonagall and Moody had both retreated back to Hogwarts, McGonagall as Headmistress and Transfiguration teacher until they found someone to fill the latter role who lived up to the strict Professor's standards, and Moody trying his hand at actually teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts instead of being locked up while a doppelganger taught for him. Apparently, the 'cushy' job, as he called it, was working well as his retirement from active Auroring. Kingsley Shaklebolt was perhaps the only one who remained in his same job from before the War broke out. He had been offered the position of heading the Auror Department, but turned it down, instead recommending Lupin for the job.

The greying ex-Professor would have declined the job as well, his usual caution because of his monthly problem dampening any desire for a regular career, except that the offer came at a crucial time in his life. His wife of only a few months had just announced that she was with child, and the news had sparked a life in him that Ginny could only guess had not been seen since his days as one of Hogwarts' own Marauders. Needless to say, he had more than accepted the job.

Now, some two months later, he was already settling into the role of both dutiful husband and responsible leader for their department, although the fire had yet to leave his eyes, showing that he was indeed psyching himself up to take on another role – namely, that of 'loving father.' Ginny couldn't help smiling to herself as she watched the scene unfolding in the small, cluttered office, content to wait until her long-time friends noticed her rather than alerting them to her presence by knocking on the already-open door.

Nymphadora Tonks Lupin was beginning to spend less and less time at the Ministry as her pregnancy progressed, unwilling to completely take her maternity leave, but also slowly succumbing to the taxes her condition caused on her health and energy. Now, she was pacing around the small open space in front of her husband's desk, one hand resting on her slightly-rounded belly as she glared down at a large piece of parchment held in her other hand.

"I don't like it, Remus," she said, stopping to turn on him where he sat behind the large wooden desk.

Lupin sighed tiredly, his head in his hands. "I know. I don't like it either, but it's a direct order from the Wizengamot. There's not really much we can do about it..."

"But why _her?_" Tonks demanded, giving the parchment an angry shake. "She's so _young!_" She ignored the small smile her husband gave her in regards to her own youth. "And they can't honestly think that this won't have personal repercussions on her!"

Lupin sighed again, shaking his head. "I don't know what they're thinking. But maybe that's just it – of all of us, Ginny would certainly have the most motivation to make sure Malfoy stays out of trouble..."

Ginny, realizing with a start that they were talking about _her_, finally spoke up. "Um..."

Both Senior Aurors whipped around to face her, looking startled and perhaps a bit guilty. There was a beat of silence before Lupin stood, clearing his throat and snatching the parchment away from his wife. He ignored the face she made at him for that. "Ah, Ginny, thank you for coming so quickly," he said, moving out from behind his desk. He held the parchment out to her. "We have an assignment specifically for you, straight from the Minister of Magic and the Senior Witch and Warlock of the Wizengamot themselves. You're to-"

"Keep a certain Mr. Malfoy out of trouble?" Ginny finished for him, accepting the paper and looking up at her old Professor from under her brows.

"That's the gist of it," Lupin admitted, shrugging, then added, "but right now you're to report to the Senior Witch and Warlock's office for the details. It's apparently a very delicate mission. Good luck."

Ginny nodded and half-smiled despite herself as she left the office and made her way down the hall to the lift. Only Lupin still referred to their assignments as 'missions'. It was like being back in the Order, when the War was still raging all around them. Back when Malfoy had been supplying them with information, instead of blood-money...

Three years ago to the day...

She shook her head, the lift already carrying her up to the higher levels of the Ministry building where the more 'important' government officials worked. She glanced over the parchment once more as she stepped out into a hallway noticeably finer and more spacious than the one she had left behind.

She made her way down the shining wood floor to the last door on the left. The one at the very end of the hall led to the Minister of Magic's office, while all the others were the offices of Senior Advisors and members of the Wizengamot. Holding her breath, she raised her fist and knocked twice on the heavy oaken door before her.

For a moment there was silence and Ginny had the sudden irrational fear that she was actually not supposed to be there – it was like being back at school, and realizing a second after she blurted out an answer that not only had she misunderstood the teacher's question, but she had also read the completely wrong chapter in the text book – but then the door was swinging in, opening wide to allow her in.

She stepped tentatively across the threshold, and then remembered herself and why she was here. They hadn't called for a timid eleven-year-old Ginny – they wanted the skilled, seasoned Auror Ginevra Weasley to handle this delicate case, and she was going to give them that if it killed her. That was, after all, practically the Auror code of conduct: "If it kills me..."

"You wanted to see me, Sir, Madam..?" she said, walking across the spacious room toward the two large oak desks stationed at an acute angle from each other. Two tall, wingback chairs sat in front of the desks for visitors, and she stopped just behind these, keeping her chin up, shoulders squared.

The Senior Witch was a plump woman with steel-grey hair pulled back in a bun that seemed to be slowly coming undone, if the random loose tendrils of hair were anything to go by. She sat on Ginny's left, shuffling a pile of papers into some kind of order. On her right, the Senior Warlock was a stern-looking man, his head completely bald but for the long, grey-and-white-streaked beard hanging down his front. He was hunched over a long parchment, scribbling away with a large, grey goose feather quill.

He glanced up at her words, then immediately replaced his quill in the inkpot and stood, pushing back his chair. "Ah, Ms. Weasley, we've been expecting you," he said, and gestured to the seat nearest the Senior Witch's desk. "Please, be seated."

Ginny nodded, a bit put off by the man's brisk but kindly tone, and sensed movement in the other chair as she made to sit down. Glancing over, she nearly missed the seat of her chair when she found the last person she would have expected to be in on this mission sitting right beside her: Draco Malfoy.

He sat stiffly, his back straight and elbows resting lightly on the armrests of the chair. His eyes were set forward, glaring at the Senior Witch and Warlock each in turn, mouth pressed into a tight white line. She was having her doubts that this assignment was what Lupin had made it out to be, and she couldn't help wondering just what the SW's were playing at, having Malfoy here when he was the one she was supposed to be monitoring...

He apparently felt her gaze on him and snapped a glare over at her. "What are _you_ looking at?"

"Now, now, Mr. Malfoy, there's no need for such talk," the Senior Witch said, just short of shaking her finger at him.

"I am not a child, madam," Malfoy replied haughtily, turning cold silver eyes on the elderly witch, "and I would appreciate not being spoken to as one." All the while glowering in the same way that he had been since Ginny had first laid eyes on him when he was twelve and she only eleven. Not a child, indeed...

"All right, enough," the Senior Warlock said, rapping his knuckles on his desk to bring their attention back to him. "We have a very serious announcement to make that concerns the both of you."

Ginny exchanged a distasteful glance with Malfoy. "What could that be, Sir? I was told you had an Auroring assignment for me..."

The Warlock nodded, clasping his hands in front of him. "Yes. This is a very delicate situation, and one that we believe only you would be suited for, Ms. Weasley."

"Yes, Sir." Ginny felt her face heating slightly. A mission that only she could do? She was one of the top aurors, but to be noticed by the Wizengamot..? It must have been a terribly important assignment.

"We want you, Ms. Weasley-" she leaned forward slightly in anticipation "-to take on the role of Mrs. Draco Malfoy."

She nearly fell out of her chair, and, righting herself, saw that Malfoy was in a similar state of shock.

"What!" he yelled, eyes wide and furious. "You can't just order us to get married!"

"What's the point of this, anyway?" Ginny demanded, hands balling into fists on her armrests. "I thought I was supposed to be monitoring him!"

The Senior Warlock blinked. "Why, that's what you're going to be doing, Ms. Weasley. You're to monitor Mr. Malfoy's activities, and see that he remains loyal to our esteemed government. As his wife, you'll have access to everything he owns and all his business, without having to worry about search orders from the ministry. It's the type of position every auror's ever dreamed of!"

Maybe, Ginny admitted to herself, but she wasn't willing to marry Draco Slime-Bucket Malfoy to get that 'perfect position.' They were just going to have to go about this the old-fashioned way, with Ministry orders and appeals and searches.

"Ooh, my, what a brilliant plan," Malfoy drawled sarcastically, cutting through her thoughts. "Too bad I've been sitting here and heard it all. Now there's no way I'd ever marry her, knowing she'd just going to be spying on me." His gaze flickered over to her. "Not that I would anyway, considering she's a _Weasley_." Ginny glowered at him.

The Warlock laughed. "Not to worry, Mr. Malfoy, it's not up to you whether you two are married or not."

"I've said already – you can't order people to get married!" Malfoy snarled, eyes blazing.

"Oh, haha! Well, we don't need to order you to do anything – it's already been taken care of. Rumelda?" He glanced over at the Senior Witch, who smiled back at him and stood, tapping her fingers on the pile of papers in front of her.

"The Wizengamot, with the Minister of Magic's approval of course, has arranged for you two to be legally married." Her fingers stopped tapping and she peered down at the top-most parchment. "You can work out vows, religious rites, and name-changes between yourselves, but as of..." She thumbed through the first few pages, then found the one she wanted, "...about 4:00 this afternoon, you two, by all legal rights, became husband and wife." She smiled brightly at them, as if this were the greatest news in the world.

"I- What- You-" Ginny spluttered, before finding her voice. "You can't _do_ that!"

She looked over at Malfoy, fully expecting him to be protesting just as loudly as she, if not more so. His look, though, made her falter and fall quiet.

His face had lost all color, somehow even paler than usual, and his eyes were large and round as he stared at the papers under the Senior Witch's hand. His lips were slightly parted, but he didn't say a word. Ginny felt her throat constricting as she stared at him. They couldn't _actually_ do this... could they?

The Senior Witch was watching Malfoy as well. "Oh, we can do this, can't we, Mr. Malfoy? Yes, you know all about arranged marriages, don't you?" She smiled down at him, her tone neutral, but her expression just slightly malicious. Malfoy, in turn, scowled, his face closing off from any emotion that might have shown there a moment ago.

"Fine," he finally bit out, leaning back to sit straight in his chair once more. "Just hand over the paperwork and let's be done with this. I have more important things to be doing than sitting around catering to the Ministry's every whim and fancy."

Ginny turned wide eyes on him. That was it? He wasn't going to fight it any more? She was just gearing up to give him and the SWs a piece of her mind about how ridiculous this whole notion was, when a thought struck her. This wasn't a _real_ marriage. It was just in name – not even that! She didn't have to change her name to Malfoy or anything! All it was was a legal, no questions asked, all-access pass to anything and everything Malfoy-related. Truly, it was just what any Auror should have dreamed of!

Ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she kept quiet and accepted her copy of the paperwork when it was offered to her. She was just glancing over the first few pages of text when something caught her eye.

"Um... Excuse me..." she said tremulously, not looking up from the passage her finger was on. "What's this bit?"

"Hm?" the Witch asked, coming round to peer down at where she pointed. "Oh, goodness, Isaac, we nearly forgot to mention that!" she said to the Senior Warlock, straightening from where she'd been reading over Ginny's shoulder. She returned to her desk before turning to face the two of them again. "This is, obviously, not a part of the marriage pact, Ms. Weasley, since many couples live apart in today's world, despite the general lack of loyalty among the young people that it shows-" The Warlock cleared his throat, motioning for her to get on with it. She sighed, nodded. "However, as a part of your Auroring assignment, you are to be stationed in Malfoy Manor."

There was a beat of silence. "Excuse me?" Malfoy said, blinking owlishly up at the elderly woman.

She gave him a bland look, as if not understanding their confusion. "Why, she is to live with you, Mr. Malfoy."

8-888-8

A/N: Yay for first chapters, and yay for actually having a plot to follow after this! So what do you guys think? Too much of a cliché old plot-line? Think I can bring it back to life? -Sigh- I'm trying n..n;

Please review!


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